Princesses and Pirates
by EmrysTheMerlin
Summary: England has kept America locked away to save her from the rest of the world.That doesn't sit well with the young colony.So with the help of her brother Canada she escapes.But when she meets a dark haired nation and finds herself at sea she's in for more than she bargained for. Fem!America, Pirate England and Spain, Fem!Romano, BAMF Canada. Pre Revolutionary war.
1. A Bid For Freedom

Princesses and Pirates

** Authors Note: This is because I enjoy pirates! Who doesn't? So I dipped my feet in the darker end of the pool. Really just kinda dipped my toes in. Female America, cause I enjoy writing her. Female Romano will be used as well. Human names are Amelia Jones for America, Arthur Kirkland for England, Mathew Williams for Canada, Francis for France, Lovina (or Lovi) For Romano, and Antonio Carriedo for Spain. I'm using the human names that I read in other fan ficions because they are recognizable. Nothing historical about this one, at all. Pre Revolutionary war. Can be seen as a companion to my other Hetalia story ****_The Price of Freedom_**** but that would be set after this one. I OWN NOTHING. Translations to follow if needed. **

1. A Bid for Freedom

England wanted his young colony safe, if that meant locking her away in the house he had built for her then so be it. She was no longer a child, but not yet an adult. She was the flower of innocence; a light in his dark life of Piracy, no he was a privateer. He hated leaving her alone for too long, even now that she had a brother whom England had won from France. But it was necessary.

America missed her woods, her friends among the native animals and people. The walls around her seemed to close in day by day. Every time England left he would put a magical seal on the front door and downstairs windows. Even if she broke the wall, which she had done twice now, the seal meant she couldn't leave without an escort of at least five people.

The pretty ruby bracelet was worse punishment for doing nothing wrong. It kept her from leaving the keepers or jailers as she called them. Every time she tried she was yanked back to them and scolded. But no matter how she tried she couldn't get it off herself.

Every time he was home he would apologize and remove all the wards and the bracelet. Let her wander free for a time, but no matter how many apologies he gave her he always put them back on.

He gave her splendid things in an attempt to keep her satisfied but nothing worked. He knew she was upset but he also knew something she didn't. Spain and France wanted revenge against him and he knew neither was below hurting America to do that. But there was no reason to worry the teenage nation.

So America, seeing no other way, came up with a plan. She even enlisted her brother's help, but he had a condition. He wanted to come with her. So on the day England left he began to refasten the bracelet on her wrist and she whined.

"Do I have to wear this stupid thing? It's too tight and it hurts my wrist. I promise I won't leave the keepers. Please?" She turned on the full power of her big blue eyes, complete with tears. This always weakened the older nations resolve. His green eyes met hers and he faltered, fingers slipping on the clasp.

"America, I want you to promise me you won't. I just want you to be safe Amelia, someday you'll understand that." He clasped her hand tightly in both of his and removed the bracelet only after she nodded. He couldn't see her fingers crossed behind her back.

"Good and remember the rule?" She nodded, uncrossing her fingers and reciting England's other rule.

"Don't talk to other countries, except Mathew, because they are bad people. Especially France the Frog." He smiled.

"Very good! I'll be back soon I promise." England hugged her and donned his tri-corn hat. The white plumage fell in a cascade down the back of the hat mixing with somehow eternal red roses and strands of pearls. He grinned and to anyone else it would look threatening, but America knew her older brother well enough to see the glint in his eyes that showed how much he cared.

"I'll see you soon America, until then I bid thee farewell!" He grabbed his red and gold coat and bounded out the door waving at her. She watched him go from the doorway and when he was finally out of sight she raced upstairs and smiled at her brother, dangling the ruby bracelet in front of his nose.

"Told you so!" Canada smiled timidly.

"Are you sure about this? This might not work. What if it's dangerous?" America scoffed at her brother.

"Mattie! Trust me, it'll work." She ducked into her room and changed out of the blue dress England had brought her from London. She looked nice in it but the hoops bothered her. She kept the corset on though; it was white and wouldn't show through her chosen attire.

When she called for Canada to enter the room he found her with a pair of scissors in her hand dressed in black breeches and a loose white tunic. Her hair which had been shoulder length when she had entered the room was now slightly shorter than his. She grinned and set down the scissors. He gapped at her.

"Arthur's gonna kill you…" Her grin widened, if that was even possible.

"He'll have to catch me first. Now help me get this window open!" He quavered for a moment then helped her with the fastenings.

"What about the governor? He'll figure out we're missing wont her?" America nodded.

"Eventually, it'll take him a while. He's not the brightest. But I've thought of that. I left him a note." Canada spotted said note as they finally got the window open.

'Ha-ha. Catch me if you can you silly old fool.

America

P.S. Canada will most likely be back in an hour. Ha ha ha!'

"Really?! Is that necessary? He's just doing his job sis." America shrugged, her feet already out the window. She reached up and caught a thick tree branch that seemed to reach out to her. She smiled, happy to feel her own trees beneath her hands again. Her land, her country, all hers forever. She swung nimbly around the tree branch a few times before letting go and landing catlike on her feet. Canada gasped and she stifled a laugh as he made his own graceless exit. He landed on his rear and she giggled slightly, pulling him to his feet.

"Come on Mattie! Let's go before they figure out we're gone." He nodded and the pair raced off. Canada had to run to keep up with his sister's seemingly easy pace. She was so excited to be free, both of the accursed dresses and that claustrophobic house. Her land seemed to rejoice as well, small flower buds bursting into bloom behind her. The trees reached out to her brushing her with leaves, even leaving several behind in her hair.

She laughed loudly and Canada found he was glad he had helped after all. She looked so happy, practically glowing in the sunlight. She had grown pale almost sickly during her confinement. But now she gleamed like a star, back in her element and on her land. He had to stop for breath and she disappeared from sight for a moment. He called after her and when she didn't respond he began to panic.

"America, where are you?" She giggled dropping out of a tree in front of him, making him jump. That made her burst out with laughter.

Neither young nation was aware of their audience. Spain laughed quietly, watching the two he knew to be nations through a telescope. But which was which? He couldn't make out their words at this distance. He had been informed that America was a young girl with golden hair and deep blue eyes. Yet though both before him had hair the color of new gold and eyes like the sea they both appeared to be male.

He whispered instructions to his first mate and the small group he had brought ashore with him dispersed to send up the signal for France to begin the distraction. They had found England's weakness at last.

**No translations this chapter. Canada left his polar bear in the house. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Nation-napped

2. Nation-napped

**Authors Note: Still own nothing. There are a few things in Spanish here and this chapter is quite short.. PLEASE REVIEW!**

The two apparent twins wandered through the town, unknowingly followed by the conquistador. America was so excited. Her people had grown strong and as they did so did she. Something felt odd though, almost like when she knew England was home. But he had left already so she ignored the feeling. Mathew was growing nervous.

"Come on Amelia, please! Let's go back, the governor will be looking for us. We've been gone for almost three hours! America!" She shushed him but Spain had already heard all he needed to hear. Clever girl, she had disguised herself. Most likely to get away from England. He was damn possessive of her. Spain had never even seen her before. But he had to admit the things he had heard from France and Finland, the only other nations to have actually seen the girl, were true. Despite the boy short hair and improper clothes she gleamed with happiness, beauty and untapped potential.

"If you're scared, Mattie, then you should go back. I want to savor it for a while. I haven't been free for so long!" Ah, he had kept her like a princess in a tower. Spain grinned. She would want freedom, want to see the world. He could arrange that. But he couldn't take both nations. That would bring England's full wrath on his head. So he'd just take her. She wandered away from the houses and her brother hesitated then followed her like a lost puppy. Damn. He would need to resort to his backup plan. He turned as his first mate returned.

"France sent up the signal. He's engaged England in battle." Spain smiled.

"Perfecto! I need you now; you have what I sent you for?"

"Si."

"Bueno! Come on or we'll lose them."

Amelia led Mathew out into the woods again. She loved her woods and here she could ditch him and do as she liked. But it didn't take five minutes for her plan to go horribly wrong.

"America! Wait up! I can't…" There was a grunt of pain followed quickly by a thud behind her. She spun and saw her brother laid out face down on the ground a small patch of red growing on the back of his scalp.

"Mattie!" She screamed and ran back to him, easily dodging the poorly lain trap meant to catch her feet. She knelt down next to her brother and found he was breathing and that the red came from a small scratch that would heal quickly.

But she had no time to feel good about it, as someone dropped down from the tree above her. Whoever it was landed on top of her and cupped a cloth over her nose and mouth. She gasped for air and easily threw him off her. There was a grunt as whoever it was hit a tree.

But the damage was done. He sight swam and she stumbled to her feet. She felt her knees give way and landed hard next to her brother. She looked up, blinking back the fuzzy darkness that threatened to engulf her. A tall blur with dark skin and hair swam into her view and someone brushed her hair away from her face.

"Hush mi dulce. I won't hurt you." The dark man whispered smiling. She whimpered wishing she had kept her promise to Arthur as her world faded to black.

Spain scooped up the prone nation and glanced down at her brother who was beginning to stir. He jerked his head and his crew came forward roughly grabbing the boy and forcing him to a tree, tying him firmly in place. When they had finished Spain, still holding the drugged America bridal style, smirked at him.

"Tell Inglaterra that I have his precious America and if he wants to see her again he'll meet me at my port on Granada. I'd take you as well but she's more valuable." He smirked as Canada began to struggle against the ropes. Spain nodded at one of his men, who looked like he had a few broken ribs. He stepped forward wincing and cupped a cloth over Canada's mouth and nose pressing hard until he had no choice but to breathe in the drug. The dark haired nation nodded when he saw the blonde's eyes lose focus.

"Vamos! Time to get mi encantadora to the ship." Canada managed to call out after the nation that was stealing his sister only once before the blackness settled in.

"Amelia!"

**Translations in order, used goggle translate.**

**Perfecto: Perfect**

**Si: Yes**

**Bueno: Good**

**Mi dulce: My sweet**

**Inglaterra: England**

**Vamos: Let's go**

**Mi encantadora: My lovely**


	3. On Board The Galleon

3. On Board the Galleon

**Authors Note: Yay pirates! We also get a lot more Spanish in this chapter and even some Italian. Thank you goggle translate. Anyway, this chapter is the first appearance of Fem! Romano! Yay! Everyone's favorite little fiery Italian! If you don't like SpainxRomano I suggest you abandon ship right now. Ha-ha ship. I STILL OWN NOTHING. Translations to follow.**

America woke slowly, her head pounding and her vision blurry. Then she remembered the last thing she had seen.

"Mattie!" She shot upright and the world around her spun. A strong hand rested itself on her shoulder, steadying her.

"Calmate mi ardiente. You're still a bit woozy from the chloroform. Mis disculpas for the necessity but you are truly a nation to be reckoned with. Strong and unafraid, and fiercely loyal from what I've seen." She focused with some difficulty and found herself looking into a pair of green eyes. They weren't as green as England's and they gleamed with something she didn't recognize. The dark brown hair that swung casually in front of them was topped with a hat a lot like Arthur's except the plume on this one was a golden feather with red jewels and feathers woven through it. His white tunic was partially open to reveal a well built chest.

He had a sword casually strung at his side by a red band of fabric that led to black breaches and well worn boots. His ear had a gleaming golden hoop hanging from it and his smile unnerved her a little.

"Feeling better mi rayo de las esterllas?"

"Who are you? What does that even mean?" She asked annoyed, rubbing her head in an attempt to clear the fog that still clung to the edges of her vision. He laughed almost musically.

"Perdon. I'm Spain but friends call me Antonio Carriedo or Captain as you like. I asked if you were feeling better my ray of starlight. Though perhaps sol would fit you better it means sun in Spanish." He fingered a strand of her hair and she slapped his hand away.

"Que es la materia mi flor de oro?"

"You're a nation, a country like me?"

"Si. Yes." He amended at her glare.

"Where am I?" She ground out, refusing to let her fear show. He sat back in the chair he sat in, she was lying on a bed she noticed somewhere in the back of her mind. A grin played its way onto his face.

"Welcome aboard my galleon El Santa Maria!" He looked quite proud of his ship. She was on a ship! She'd never been on a ship before, and though she was a strong swimmer she doubted she could swim the entire sea just to get home.

"Where are you taking me?" She really should have listened to Arthur, but he hadn't told her that there were people out there who would steal a nation right off their own lands.

"My home, España. I truly do apologize for this mi dorada. It truly has nothing to do with you, but Inglaterra has this coming." She knew that word in several languages.

"England? Wait, he's told me stories about you. You're that Spanish Bastard!" He looked stunned for a moment then laughed.

"Si Inglaterra would call me that. But for now you should be comfortable. I brought company for you. Let me see if I can find her, she's feisty just like you. I think you'll get along nicely." He stood and bowed out of the room.

It was then America took a good look around. She was in his cabin, she had to be. It was covered in finery and maps. A flag hung on the wall opposite her, must be his she thought. She tried to stand but her legs refused to support her. She wobbled and fell forward. Someone with small hands caught her, pushing her back onto the bed.

"Ebete! Sir down. You don't have your sea legs yet." America looked up the golden eyes of a young girl, several years older than her with deep brown hair and a curl that reminded her of Mathew, though his was somehow longer. Spain stood in the doorway grinning.

"America meet Romano, well Lovina." The girl, Romano, whirled on Spain punching at him.

"Zitto bastardo! I can introduce myself! You mean, rotten..."

"What did you do to my brother!?" America cut across the girls rant. That shit Romano up entirely, which Spain quietly thought was a miracle.

"The boy who was with you?"

"Yes you raging bastard, my baby brother! What did you do to him?" She would have throttled the older nation then and there if her legs would allow her to move and her vision would clear.

"Calmate peueño. Your brother is fine. He'll have a headache, much like you do, when he wakes up but he'll be fine." The brown haired girl beat the older nation out of the room and slammed the door in his face.

"Are you alright piccolo? Spain is a bastardo, you can call me Lovi if you want." Amelia felt tears in her eyes. She sat down hard on the bed and buried her face in her hands. She felt the small Italian nation rubbing circles on her back trying to soothe her.

"Shh. Hush piccolo, tell me what the bastardo did." America choked down a sob and looked up at Spain's lackey sharply.

"Why would I trust you? You work for him!" The slim girl stiffened and America swore that her very hair, which was tied back in a ponytail, bristled.

"Non ho mai scelto questo vuol dire bambino!" America looked at her with confusion but she had jumped. The slim girl gripped her pink skirt in frustration, her accent was thicker with anger.

"I didn't choose this you mean little child! They took my family from me too, my little sister." She crossed her arms and huffed, fighting back tears of her own. America sniffled and touched the older girl on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Is she ok?"

"I don't know." The girls shoulder shook under Amelia's hand and she hugged her.

"You can call me Amelia, or America, up to you. I'm sorry." The girl hesitated then hugged her back. Both held each other for a while.

**Translations in order thank you goggle translate. Also yes both Italy's are female in this.**

**Calmate mi ardiente: Calm down my fiery one (Spanish)**

**Mis disculpas: My apologies (Spanish)**

**Mi rayo de luz de las esterellas: My ray of starlight (Spanish)**

**Perdon: Sorry (Spanish)**

**Sol: Sun (Spanish)**

**Que es la materia mi flor de oro: What's the matter my golden flower? (Spanish)**

**Si: Yes (Spanish)**

**España: Spain (Spanish)**

**Mi dorada: My golden one**

**Inglaterra: England (Spanish)**

**Ebete: Stupid (Italian)**

**Zitto Bastardo: Shut up bastard (Italian)**

**Calmate pequeño: Calm down little one (Spanish)**

**Piccolo: little one (Italian)**

**Bastardo: Bastard (Italian)**

**Non ho mai scelto questo vuol dire bambino! : No, I never chose this you mean little child!**

**Ok couldn't get most of the accents to show up as more than boxes... My apologies **


	4. Injuries and Rubbish News

4. Injuries and Rubbish News

**Authors Note: I STILL OWN NOTHING! No translations in this one. If you've read the previous chapters, chapter 2 specifically you'll know what is said. Plus it's a repetition. **

England muttered darkly, readjusting the new eye patch that rested over what was left of his left eye. It would grow back soon but it bothered him that Francis the Frog had gotten that lucky in the first place. His ship, the English Rose, had been slightly damaged and France's crew had thrown most of his supplies overboard. He had been forced back to Jamestown. It was early morning when he arrived back at port. He smiled to himself, Amelia and Mathew wouldn't expect him back this soon.

But when the governor met him at the port he looked a bit panicked and was alone. That was a very bad sign.

"What happened? Out with post haste you scurvy cur or I'll gut you." England wouldn't let his worry show in any way other than how it should with a pirate, impatience. His mind was racing. Canada and America should have been with the governor, should have been informed the moment the Rose was spotted on the horizon.

"A-America and C-Canada appear to h-have..." England pulled his cutlass and pointed it at the man's throat.

"Finish that sentence soon or it'll be the last one you ever say." He was growling.

"Run away! They ran away and we can't find either of them!" The man trembled and England ignored him, racing to the mansion he had built for his beloved colony. The wards were still in place. Running inside he vaulted up the stairs and found Amelia's door slightly open.

He barreled inside and found a rather rude note and a floor covered in hair, like stardust left in the wake of a comet. She had cut her hair? The window was open and free from wards. That explained how she had gotten out. But England had never expected her to run away. Especially with Canada, he was so scared of the outside world; he had hoped it would rub off on her.

He read the note through again. Canada should be back by now. The governor, who had followed him, was stupidly standing in the doorway. England grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"When was this found?" He ground out. The man shook and looked close to tears.

"Y-yesterday. We came up to get them when neither came down for supper. We've had s-search parties out since then." Arthur bodily threw the man from him and ran from the house. He stopped outside and let out a loud whistle. His crew seemed to materialize in front of him. He barked orders, keeping himself as calm and collected as possible. They were to find both young nations as fast as they could or suffer dire consequences. The crew, fearing the retribution of their leader the pirate king, moved faster than most would think possible.

Yet several hours later there was still no sign of either country. Until one old woman who lived on the edge of the settlement that America insisted on calling a town spoke up. She recognized Arthur from her childhood.

"My lord, I believe I can assist you." He could have blessed her then and there.

"Two children I haven't seen before were wandering though here yesterday. On seemed to be quite nervous and the other was quite well, bold in his speech for a boy of his age. But I heard a name, my lord. The bold one called the smaller one Mattie." He could have hugged her.

"Pray tell good lady, did you see which way they went?" She nodded and pointed out into the woods.

"That way my lord."

"Thank you, you have been most helpful. My crew will provide you with anything you require." The crew nodded and the woman smiled as England kissed her hand and ran off into the woods.

He ran for about three minutes when he heard a moan. He ran around a bend and gasped.

"Mathew!" He ran up to the tree to which the young nation was tied. His eyes were slightly unfocused and his breath smelled of a chemical that Arthur had to take a moment to place. Chloroform. Arthur pulled a knife out of his boot and began to cut away the ropes.

"He took her. He took Amelia." England froze his heart growing cold, hand slipping on the knife. He cursed under his breath as the knife sliced into his fingers. He resumed freeing the small blonde who had obviously been here all night.

"Who did this? I need to know who took her Mathew." He tried to keep his voice calm as he caught the stumbling Canada. He shook his head.

"Didn't say. He used to visit France a lot. He said you had to meet him at his port." England's mind raced. An ally of France, who had a port… that could be any number of nations.

"Which port? Mathew, what exactly did he say?" Mathew rubbed his head blue eyes, so like his sisters, brimming with tears.

"He said, 'Tell Inglaterra I have his precious America and if he wants to see her again he'll meet me at my port on Granada.'" England froze mid walk, Canada's arm slung over his shoulder. He ground his teeth and narrowed his one good eye.

"That Spanish Bastard!"

**Translations. Just the one this time. More next chapter.**

**Inglaterra: England (Spanish) **


	5. Magic and Men

5. Magic and Men

**Authors Note: I STILL OWN NOTHING! In my opinion not enough people play with England's magic, so I'm doing it! Also it takes time to get from America to Spain now, imagine with no planes! Hence the timing here. I could see America and Romano being great friends if forced into talking to each other. Reviewers are loved!**

It had been a week. A week at sea with no one but Spain and his men for company on a cramped smelly ship. But Lovi had been a blessing to Amelia, they were very alike after all. Both were spunky and neither liked Spain's cooking. So they had taken it in turns to cook for each other, until Lovi had taken over. She claimed England's cooking had messed up America's brain. Amelia didn't mind. Lovi's cooking was wonderful and she made a point of telling her that. She would blush and curse and Amelia would giggle.

Amelia missed England and Mathew and Lovi missed her sister Feliciana, or Feli as Lovi called her. She was even teaching America Italian. Both would ignore Spain entirely now in favor of each other's company. It was starting to annoy him a little. He was used to Lovi at least being vocal in her dislike of him. Now neither talked to him unless they had to.

He sat in the crow's nest beside his lookout watching, not the ocean, but the two female nations talking by the railing. America looked like a proper pirate, having refused the fancy dresses he had brought for her and even turning down Lovi's offer of her spare dress, though she turned Lovi down far more gently than Spain.

She had instead gone through all the clothes on board the ship until she found something to her liking, leaving quite the mess for his men to clean up afterward. She had discovered a blue coat, very similar to his red one and that of her brothers. The trimming that lined this coat was pure silver and went well with the grey sash she had wrapped at her waist. Her hair, which was still short but occasionally blew into her eyes with the changing winds, was tied back with a strip of blue fabric that almost matched the coat perfectly. The overall effect was quite stunning and she somehow retained her feminine beauty under the clothes of a rouge.

Spain smiled as Lovina's laughter reached his ears. It had been rare to see her smile, let alone laugh before but she seemed so much more open and happy around the equally fiery and uncontrollable Amelia. The two seemed to balance each other well, being as they were in similar situations.

"Tal vez voy a mantererla. She keeps Lovi happy, she is strong and beautiful. Plus with her comes the new world. Quite the package deal." His lookout looked over at him as he muttered to himself.

"What's that Captain?"

" Hm? Nothing, just a thought." He grinned and vaulted out of the nest, grabbing hold of the mast and sliding down it. When he reached the sail he grabbed a stray rope and swung gracefully to the deck.

Neither girl noticed the feat of acrobatics, or Spain at all. One of his less savory crew members was making advances on Amelia and she looked about ready to throw him over the railing. Stepping up behind the man Spain pulled his rapier and pressed it into the small of his back.

"Make another move on either of these ladies and I'll slit you open and leave you for the sharks."

"Aye C-Capita︣n" He stuttered and backed away carefully. Lovi blushed and refused to look at Spain but Amelia glared.

"I don't need your help you creep! I can take care of myself." She crossed her arms and he laughed. She was rather adorable when angered. He stroked a hand under her chin, looking her in the eyes which were as deep as the sea and just as blue. She smacked his hand away hard enough to leave a bruise.

"Hands off! I don't belong to you and I never will." She stomped off and swore the boards were cracking under her feet but he dismissed it. It was impossible after all. Strong enough to throw one of his men and break bones was one thing but out on the open sea the nations were on even terms. Except maybe Russia. Lovi made to follow Amelia but Antonio caught her gently around the waist.

"Don't be jealous mi pequeño tomate, mi dorada may be beautiful but you'll always be my favorite." He whispered in her ear. Seeing her blush made him happy but after a second she began to struggle and he let go. He received a slap to the face but Lovi's didn't carry nearly as much force as Amelia's.

"Who would be jealous of you? And in case you haven't noticed your tuo uno d'oro wants nothing to do with you, you bastardo spangnolo!" Her words hurt more than her slap; Spain wasn't used to pretty ladies resisting him.

He sighed as she flounced after America. He stretched and spun on his heel. He glanced up then froze and looked back up. That was when he saw it. Black clouds swirled where there had been blue skies before, lightning flashed in strange blue and gold and red lightning. The tide around the Santa Maria had stilled and the wind whipped around the crew but refused to fill the sails.

"Dios nos libre. What hell is this!?" He crossed himself and began to bark orders to his men to batten down the hatches and prepare for the worst.

England smiled. Finally! His spell had found her. It was a blessing that she had cut her hair after all, it meant he had plenty to track her from. Still tracking a nation was far more complicated than tracking a normal person. It had taken a week to find her. He stood on the prow of his ship, the English Rose, balancing on the railing. His feet were hooked under the carved wooden hands of the figurehead of a mermaid reaching up to the sky with her slim arms ash her hair swirled covering her so she was not indecent and her tale reached down toward the raging sea. He watched the ship, Spain's ship the Santa Maria, through his spell. There were three countries on that ship. Spain America and someone else. It didn't really matter though.

If anyone laid a hand on America he'd rip them to shreds then do it again. He'd never stop. They thought this would break him, but he was all the stronger and more determined for the push. He would get back _his _America and her captors would pay dearly if she was harmed. Or if she wasn't for that matter. He would get her back.

**Translations in order, thank you goggle translate.**

**Tal vez voy a mantererla : Maybe I will keep her. (Spanish)**

**Mi penqueño tomate: My tiny tomato (Spanish)**

**Mi dorada: My golden one (Spanish)**

**Tuo uno d'oro: Your golden one (Italian)**

**Bastardo spangnolo: Spanish bastard (Italian. Goggle translate switched them so I assume it's probably the proper way to do it.)**

**Dios nos libre: God save us (Spanish)**


	6. Confrontations and Chains

and Chains

**Authors note: This chapter earned this story its rating. There's a bit of risqué ness here but nothing too bad. People tend to forget that pirates are not gentlemen, even privateers. I OWN NOTHING! Translations to follow.**

The noise on deck drew Lovina and Amelia back on deck. The clouds were roiling now, clearly visible symbols flashing through them. America squinted up at them then her eyes widened as she recognized her. Then she laughed as the wind that tore at others, stealing anything that wasn't tied down, caressed her. Lovi's hair was becoming tangled and Amelia grabbed her friend's hand. The wind hesitated then settled around her recognizing her as friend instead of foe. She felt it brush around her untangling her hair and even braiding small strands of it around her face.

"What is it?" America grinned at Romano's question. She shouted, her reply voice carrying easily on the raging wind that swirled around the girls like water swirled around a rock.

"England! He's coming." Spain spun, seeing the violent wind protecting the two female nations. He growled. He should blame himself, he had brought this down on them. But this girl's presence was putting his crew _his _Romano in danger. Why did England want her back this badly? She was just one nation, he had Canada he didn't need both. Pushing these thoughts aside for later contemplation he raced over to her grabbing her roughly by the arm. He dragged America and Lovina back into the ship.

"Romano! Get back to your cabin now! It's not safe!" She began to protest but he shoved her into her room, locking the door behind her. He yanked America down the hall, hand still latched around her arm in a bruising grip. She struggled but he countered by shoving her into his cabin. She stumbled as he had known she would.

Seizing his opportunity he threw her down onto the bed catching both of her slim wrists in one hand and reaching up to his belt with the other.

"I really hate to do this to a lady but it seems your precious Inglaterra has left me with no choice." Amelia trembled as the bigger nation held her down. She tried to summon what England called her inhuman strength but she couldn't focus. She screamed and closed her eyes. Spain laughed at her and something metal clicked around one of her captured wrists then the other. Her eyes snapped open and she saw Spain getting off of her, still fully clothed. She tried to move but found her wrists locked in place with shackles, looped around the bed frame. She swore at him as he removed her boots and did the same to her ankles.

"Let me go you Spanish bastard!" England was out there. He might be in trouble. Spain brushed a hand along her cheek even as she tried to bite him.

"Shh, mi dorada. All will be well. And once I end that annoying Inglaterra you'll be all mine, no questions asked." She froze then resumed her struggling with more effort, making the chains and bed frame creak. Spain grabbed his favorite pistol and loaded it so she could see it. Then he leaned down and whispered directly into her ear.

"I've been saving this shot, this gun. It's a steel bullet, does more damage than a lead ball. I've saved this for the heart of the pirate king, Captain Arthur Kirkland. You've given me the opportunity to use it. Gracias mi dorada." He brushed his lips gently against hers and she gasped. Taking this as an invitation he plundered her mouth in only the way a pirate could.

Until she bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. He drew back and saw the anger burning in her eyes and the pink dusting her cheeks. He laughed.

"Oh! A first kiss! I'll savor it mi dorada."

"Go die in a hole you Spanish bastard!" Amelia screamed at him as he closed the door as he closed the door and locked it. This was humiliating! She struggled and pulled at the chains. They groaned but the bed frame was weaker. She just managed to reach it with her fingertips and yank, finally finding her strength as a nation. The metal frame, ornate and decorative, snapped like a dry twig. She did the same to the base and the chain holding the shackles on her feet together. But no matter how she yanked and pulled she didn't have a good enough angle to break that one.

The sound of fighting on deck reached her ears and she forgot the chain and barreled through the door which splintered under her assault. She raced up to the deck and thought she heard Lovi calling after her but she ignored everything but the idea that England was up there in danger.

England brought the English Rose alongside the Santa Maria and swung over with the boarding party. Instantly he was engaged in battle by one of the nameless crew members. Spain made it out on deck and one of his crew threw him his pole axe. He swung it expertly one handed and made it to the other side of the deck with little trouble. But his quarry was nowhere in sight.

Wait there! Locked in combat with his first mate the green eyed blonde was about to slice the Spaniard in half. The shot was clear so he took it. The steel ball flew clear through the battle and would have struck the Brit in the center of his chest.

Would have if Amelia, chains around her ankles broken but unbroken around her wrists, had not shoved him out of the way. The metal ball struck her in the shoulder and that combined with her momentum from shoving England carried her over the railing of the Santa Maria.

England barely registered the fight around him. When someone shoved him to the side away from the killing blow he was about to run them through and carry on when he recognized deep blue eyes filled with fear and desperation.

"America?!" Then pain crossed her face and a wet thunk carried her all the way over the railing. As she fell he saw her hands were chained, no chance of swimming. Her eyes closed as she hit the water and England didn't think twice. Forgetting the fight and the Spanish bastard who had shot America he dove after her, his hat flying off and coat billowing in the wind.

He cut through the water like his cutlass cut through his enemies. The trail of red was easy to follow, leading him straight to the floating form of his colony. She was struggling feebly against the water and chains. Her strength was spent and he swam faster as her struggles slowed and bubbles rose from her lips.

The sun was beginning to set, lighting the water with gold. Amelia's hair was a flame of molten gold set off spectacularly by the baby blue of her new attire and white blouse. Had it not been a life and death situation she would have looked stunning.

But the silver bubbles and chains ruined the spectacular image. Finally he reached her. Her eyes were closed and there were barely any bubbles. He pulled her up to the surface and tilted her head back so she wouldn't go back under. She wasn't breathing.

**Translations in order, thank you Goggle translate**

**Mi dorada: My golden one (Spanish)**

**Gracias mi dorada: Than you my golden one (Spanish)**


	7. Too Good

7. Too Good

**Authors Note: Sorry for the horrible cliff hanger last chapter, that wasn't my plan. I'll be quick here. BAMF Canada in this chapter. Now keep in mind what Canada does in the show… Nothing… I OWN NOTHING! Translations to follow!**

England tightened his grip on America's waist hoping one of his crew had seen him dive over the side. Someone whistled down at him and a rope was thrown. He looked up to see a small Italian girl, no country he could sense it. One of the Vargas girls?

"Afferra la corda Inghilterra!" He obeyed grabbing the rope and getting a better grip on the frighteningly limp America. Somehow the slight Italian managed to haul both waterlogged nations back onboard the Santa Maria. America still wasn't breathing.

England tilted her head back and took a deep breath. He forced America's mouth open and forced the air into her lungs. No response. He took another deep breath, then another forcing each into his colony's lungs, praying desperately.

He heard a prayer muttered in Italian behind him as he went in for a fourth try. This one was met with a rasp, then a cough. Blue eyes opened and Amelia turned onto her side and choked, coughing up sea water. It was then Arthur turned to thank the young woman.

"Grazi signorita. I don't think..." Then he saw who else was holding the rope and his vision clouded red as the blood that stained the blue coat Amelia wore.

"You!" Within the next second he had Spain on his back with a knife pressed to his throat.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't slit your throat tight now!" He demanded. The Spaniard choked attempting to answer and Arthur eased off slightly, resisting the urge to do it anyway. But his gentleman's nature wouldn't allow him to kill Spain without him getting at least a final sentence.

"I saved her, saved you. I'm the only reason she's still alive." He resumed some of the pressure on Spain's throat.

"You shot her, that buys you nothing." Spain looked over his shoulder and smiled slightly.

"Because my little Romano has a gun?" He choked out. Momentarily distracted England let his guard slip by a centimeter and Spain leapt. Flipping England onto his back he sent the blade clattering across the planks of the deck. His own hand flew towards his knife. He wouldn't wait; he wouldn't demand answers or reasons He would strike.

But a sharp pain connected with his abdomen. He rolled and found himself staring up at Amelia. Soaking wet, panting and by some miracle back on her feet she had kicked him hard. She drew back her foot to do it again and he lashed out instinctively. He knocked her foot out from under her. Her head struck the planks and she went limp.

"Estupido chica!" He received a blow to his own head and grunted as his nose broke and bleed freely. Someone had stamped down hard on his face. He looked up through a haze of pain to find a boy nearly identical to the prone nation near his feet. The only real difference was height, and his outfit. It was a toned down version of England's, the bright red coat had less gold trimming and instead of the hat that was now missing from his adversary's head the boy had tied a strip of red fabric around his head, a single long curl escaped reminding him of Romano. The small nation was shaking and had a cut in his cheek.

"That's for my sister!" He looked somehow angry and scared at once, his hands trembling on a cutlass.

Canada dropped the cutlass and ran to his sister. England sprang into action, grabbing Mathew's dropped weapon and began to slice his way through the battle. Canada struggled to lift America but the unconscious nation was about an inch taller than him and with her hands bound it was difficult. He finally managed to get a hold of her waist and lift her awkwardly when out of nowhere a slim Italian holding a pistol in shaking hands stepped in front of him.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Canada! Mathew Williams." He added eyeing the gun and placing himself between it and his injured sister. There was a flash of recognition in the girls golden eyes.

"Her fratello? She talked about you, she missed you." Mathew felt his heart twist with guilt. If he hadn't been with her she could have just run from Spain. If hadn't helped her in the first place none of this would have happened.

"It's my fault she's here. It's my fault she got caught. I don't know what fratello means but she's my sister and I'm going to help her. Please move."Lovina's hands shook worse. She remembered her sister, her Feliciana. Her baby sister. She dropped the gun and ran to the blonde pair. She wrapped an arm around Amelia's waist and helped Canada follow England. They stepped over Spain, who groaned. She shook her head at him.

"This is what you get for being an idiota!" She called over her shoulder as they followed England through the carnage of the battle. Finally they reached him, he said nothing about Romano's presence simply taking the limp America from the pair and handing Mathew a rope he had taken from one of the Santa Maria's crew who were attempting to board the English Rose. Before he swung back to his ship he made Romano an offer.

"You could come with us, leave that Spanish bastard." She scoffed at him.

"And be your other little Principessa, locked away in a tower not even allowed to wander her own land?! No mi prendo le mie possibilita con il bastardo spangnolo. At least with him I get to go outside." England bristled.

"This only happened because she ran away!" He growled, wondering why she had been so foolish. Canada cut in, looking angry and close to tears.

"She only ran away because you keep her locked up! Now can we please get out of here before Spain gets up!?" England started, shocked that the quiet nation was yelling. He nodded at Mathew and gripped America tighter and swung over to the Rose, followed closely by Canada. England let out an ear piercing whistle and immediately his crew cleared the deck of the Santa Maria retreating back to the Rose and setting sail. One of the men saluted Arthur, who was still holding Amelia.

"Captain, should we fire on the Santa Maria?" Arthur glanced at the still unconscious America. Then slowly he shook his head.

"No, we go back to Jamestown. Now." His tone brooked no argument and the men scurried around setting sail. A voice called over from the Santa Maria.

"Inglaterra!" An object came flying through the air. With all the reflexes that had earned him the title of Pirate King, Arthur caught it then noticed what it was.

"You forgot your hat." Spain shouted his accent thicker and face covered in blood. Arthur was so proud of Mathew for breaking the nation's nose; he'd have to remember to reward him when they got back.

"You'll pay for what you did you Spanish prick, but I've got better things to do today. My lady Lovina, you'll excuse me for my hasty exit." He tipped his hat to her then summoned the spell for speed he had used to catch the Santa Maria and called back one last jibe to his enemy.

"She's too good for you Spain!" Then the English Rose disappeared into the rising light.

**Translations in order, thank you goggle translate.**

**Afferra la corda Inghilterra : Grab the rope England ( Italian)**

**Grazi signorina : Thank you Miss (Italian)**

**Estupido chica: Stupid girl (Spanish)**

**Fratello: Brother (Italian)**

**Principessa: Princess (Italian)**

**No mi prendo le mie possibita con il bastardo spagnolo: No I'll take my chances with the Spanish bastard. (Italian)**

**Inglaterra: England (Spanish)**


	8. Inner Powers

8. Inner Powers

**Authors Note: I love the people who have reviewed this so far! Thank you all! So about two more chapters including this one. Now it is established in the show that America has super strength. I've also established this in this story, but I would like to take just a second to explain Spain's reaction. When a country is on their own lands they have the home field advantage as it were. But when out at sea it's really their skills that set them apart, England's magic for example. So while Spain understood why America was able to throw one of his men into a tree and break bones on her own land what she did to the bed frame shouldn't have been possible. I STILL OWN NOTHING!**

Spain sighed, leaning heavily on the railing. He waited until the English Rose disappeared fully from sight before prodding gently at his swollen nose. Who knew Canada had it in him? Lovi interrupted his thoughts by turning him around and snapping his nose back into its previous position with no warning at all.

"Ow! What was that for?!" She glowered at him.

"Being an idiota!" She scolded then helped him to his cabin.

"You should stay off the sea for a while idiota. At least until your nose is healed." They paused at the rubble that was Antonio's cabin door. The handle and lock were hanging from their original position as were the hinges. But the door itself was no more than splinters on the floor.

"Oh Dios mio, who did this!?" Antonio looked at the tiny pieces of wood that had once been a full door. Lovi almost growled at him stepping over the wreckage. The bed frame was twisted and broken. Pieces of it lay on the slightly rumpled covers. Then Lovi actually did growl when she saw a link from the chains around Amelia's ankles laying on the bed twisted and snapped in half.

"Bastardo! What did you do to il piccolo!?" She pushed Spain onto the bed and the mangled overstressed bed frame creaked dangerously.

"Nada! I swear! I mostly did this to get back at Inglaterra!" Romano slapped him, catching his nose on purpose.

"You bastardo! That dolce piccolo never did anything to you! Going through her to get to him was low, even for you." Romano looked like she planned on hitting him again and Spain scrambled back catching his arm on the jagged edge of the broken bed frame. Romano sighed and grabbed a small package from the cabinet under the flag.

"Idiota!" She pulled out several bandages and began to wrap them around his arm. He blushed slightly and looked around. The door and bed were the only things that were damaged so it wouldn't have been one of Inglaterra's crew. It didn't make sense.

"Who could have done this?" Romano rolled her eyes.

"Il tuo uno d'oro, who else?" Spain's eyebrows shot up.

"America? She can't be that strong. Not this far from her home. Es imposible!" Romano shrugged finishing wrapping Spain's arm. She began to wipe away the blood from his face with the corner of her white apron.

"Apparently it is possible." Spain's hand fell onto her wrist and she stilled. Then after a deep breath gold eyes met green.

"He was right you know. Inglaterra said you were too good for me. He was right. Gracias mi pequeño tomate." He smiled and Lovi blushed a deep crimson.

"Dannazione! Don't call me that, and why are you thanking me anyway?" His grip tightened slightly, not painfully but possessively.

"I heard what he offered you. You didn't go with him. I don't know what I'd do if you had. If I didn't know you better I'd say you cared." He smiled tiredly. She scoffed and her blush deepened.

"He's already got one Principessa locked up in that tower of his. He doesn't need another one." She muttered wiping the last of the blood away from his face. He grinned cheekily at her.

"Thank you Lovina." She scoffed again.

"I swear I have no idea what you're going on about. Your brain's probably broken from that kick to the face." She flounced out his empty doorway and he laughed watching her go. She was quite adorable when she was flustered. He drifted off to sleep and dreamed of his own fiery Princesa.

**Translations in order, thank you goggle translate.**

**Idiota: Idiot (Italian)**

**Dios mio: My god (Spanish)**

**Bastardo: Bastard (Italian)**

**Il piccolo: The little one (Italian)**

**Nada: Nothing (Spanish)**

**Bastardo: Bastard (Italian)**

**Dolce piccolo: Sweet little one (Italian)**

**Idiota: Idiot (Italian)**

**Il tuo uno d'oro: Your golden one (Italian)**

**Es imposible: It's impossible (Spanish)**

**Inglaterra: England (Spanish)**

**Gracias mi pequeño tomate: Thank you my tiny tomato (Spanish)**

**Dannazione: Damn it (Italian)**

**Principessa: Princess (Italian)**

**Princesa: Princess (Spanish)**


	9. Broken Towers Blind Futures FINAL PART

9. Broken Towers, Blind Futures

**Authors Note: FINAL PART! Hahahaha I did it! I wrote about Pirates! Yay! So yeah. I STILL OWN NOTHING! No translations in this one. Well one. I used Welsh for the magic. I needed a word…**

America stirred with a groan. She was lying face down on something comfortable but her shoulder felt like it was on fire. The pain spiked and she swore. A familiar voice above her made her freeze.

"This is what happens when you jump in front of a bullet. Hold still. I have to remove it before it heals into your shoulder."

"England?"

"Yes Amelia, but we'll catch up in a moment. I'm afraid this is going to hurt rather a lot." America tensed and someone took hold of her hands. She glanced up and saw Canada, a cut on his cheek and tears in his eyes. He sniffled and she squeezed his hand tightly.

"I'm right her Mattie, don't cry." She grinned through the pain. Then it increased and she gasped gripping her brother's hand tighter. She heard muttered apologies from behind her. Then the pain dulled and she felt someone dressing the wound.

When he was done England helped America sit up. Then he hugged her and Canada, refusing to let either see the tears build in the pirate kings eyes.

"I'm sorry Arthur." He pulled back and saw tears in Amelia's eyes. He stared at her incredulously.

"Why are you sorry?" He really couldn't fathom it. She had jumped in front of a bullet to save him and was apologizing for it. She sniffled, scrubbing at her eyes with her palms, bringing both hands up as they were still bound together. The sight of _his_ America chained and in tears tore at England's heart.

"I ran away and got caught. If I h-hadn't…" He reached up and took her wrist tenderly. She still winced. He would gut that Spanish bastard he swore silently to himself. But for now he muttered a spell.

"Datglo." The shackle fell off in his hand. He repeated this action on her other wrist as she stared down at her feet, bare ankles rubbing against rough metal of shackles. England gently lifted her chin to look her in the eye.

"I'm not cross with you Amelia. This is more my fault then yours." She met his gaze finally, confusion evident under the haze of tears and exhaustion. But England saw the spark he had first noticed in the nation's eyes when she had found him.

"If I hadn't kept you locked away you wouldn't have felt the need to run away." She scrubbed her eyes and nodded, looking every part the child she had been not too long ago. England sighed and knelt before where she sat on the edge of the bed in his cabin. Canada sat next to her keeping a hand on her arm.

Then England looked properly at the chains and saw they were stretched and one of the links was missing.

"Well these are a bit bollocks. Did he really think these would hold anyone?" He commented as he removed the mangled restraints. A giggle over his head melted into a hiccup halfway through. He looked up and saw humor playing tag with tears in America's eyes.

"I broke them." She said by way of explanation. He raised an eyebrow at her. He knew of her nearly inexhaustible strength but out at sea that shouldn't have been possible.

"How?"

"He said he was going to kill you, and he locked me up in his cabin. I heard fighting and I knew you had come to get me. I didn't want you to get hurt because of me." She sniffled and he stared at her as she continued to babble. He reached up and stroked her still damp hair out of her face.

"Shhh. It's alright. I'm here." She hugged him tight forcing all the air from his lungs.

"See we're both fine. Mathew's fine and we're on our way home now." America sighed and let him breathe. She rubbed her eyes looking even more like the child she insisted she wasn't, the child England still saw when he looked at her. Yet even to him she looked older now. Maybe it was the short hair or the very pirate like attire. The hair suited her well. He brushed it out of her eyes again and fingered it for a moment.

"I can't believe you cut your hair." She flinched slightly and he smiled.

"What's worse is I actually like it better this way." He laughed and Canada hugged his sister. He too looked exhausted. She ruffled his hair wincing as the movement agitated her injured shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault Mattie. No matter what you think." She muttered grinning at him. He nodded, eyes drooping. She pushed him back and he curled up on the bed, asleep in minutes.

"Thanks for the help little brother." America grinned then yawned wide.

"You should get some rest as well. We'll arrive back in Jamestown soon." She didn't look at him but rubbed her wrists watching her younger brother sleeping peacefully.

"Then back to the tower?" She asked and he shook his head.

"No. I'm going to take the spells off the house and destroy the bracelet."She spun round to look at him but she wobbled. The knock to the head and near drowning so close together were not very good thing to move so fast after. She grunted and wobbled more. He held onto her shoulder as her eyes went out of focus. Soon the exhaustion and injury took their toll and she passed out. He laid down next to her brother and brushed a kiss on her forehead.

"Time to let the princess out of the tower. Sleep well America." He laid his coat over her and found a spare to lay over Canada. Glancing back at the near twins he smiled and closed the door behind him.

"A little independence never hurt anyone." He mused, unaware that in a few years time he would learn how wrong that statement was.

**Translation, thank you goggle translate.**

**Datglow: Unlock (Welsh)**

**PLEASE REVIEW! I hope you enjoyed it.**


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